Orange Fire, Gray Ashes
by cyanthetriangle
Summary: When her name was called, she knew she had to do it. She had to do anything to help her win. This was the Hunger Games, and there was no room for mercy.
1. Sword Fight

**Hello all! Here is my first Hunger Games story: The 23****rd**** Hunger Games. I'm warning you now that it might change. Sorry about the SYOT, just couldn't take it all and I wasn't getting a lot of tributes. Anyways, on to the story!**

"So what are we going to do today?" Jen asked, she asked it everyday after school.

"SG," I answered, everyday. SG was my sword group, and Jen was one of the few people who knew about it. SG- standing for 'Sword Group'- was a band of boys. Plus me. We would always meet after school, after what seemed like hours in the fields, and into the bare meadow. I don't even now why we called it that, it was like a big dust bowl. There was rounded edges that, if you have no balance, will easily snap your neck sliding down. We always met here because no one else would come and see us. It was something to do, get our minds out of this wretched place. To get there, you had to sneak past peacemakers and their fat brown brutes. One time Michael got caught sneaking down to the SG. He served two times the work, and got three whippings ever day, for a week. If I wasn't wrong, that was 21 whippings. Talk about savage. "Stop," I whispered to Jen. This is where we would always depart, how much she hated it I couldn't let her be caught.

"Good luck," Jen whispered back and left. After watching her go, I ducked down and crawled behind coarse bushes, hidden to the peacemakers.

"Hey, you there!" I heard one yell. I stopped suddenly, heard the footsteps coming closer. I'm going to die, I'm going to die! Just breathe, Crimson. "What are you doing, boy?" I looked up and peeked over the bushes, there sat a boy, about five or six, with an apple. Close. "I said, what are you doing boy." I made my way past the bushes, taking up on the distraction, and looked back once. The boy was being picked up by the throat, his legs thrashing and the guard having no mercy, muttered terrible insults to him. A pang of sympathy ran through my body, I knew I couldn't help, however much I wanted to. I ran as fast as I could to the opposite direction.

I reached the meadow and called down to them. Them meaning Marc, Michael, Sean, Thom, Fred, and Brian. "Hey Crimson," Marc called back up. I smiled shyly and slid down the side. Marc helped me up and once again I smiled a shy smile. I was locked in his pale green eyes for what seemed like minutes.

"Thanks," I said, tucking a strand piece of vivid red hair behind my ear.

"Welcome," he replied, winking at me. "Where's my sword?" I saw Michael throw it to him. It really wasn't a sword, not metal anyway. It was a carved wooden sword, that could do damage if you mean to, but of course, this was just messing around. He caught it expertly and waved it around. "Up for a challenge Crimson Treke?"

"You bet." I caught the sword Michael flung at me. I glanced toward Michael, who was about to battle Sean. They always paired up, every time. I held the sword firmly in my hand. I took my first aim; the leg. Marc quickly deflected it and tried to go for my foot. I jumped back and quickly aimed for his neck. He ducked and tried to slice my stomach. My sword met his with a WHACK. I stood back and tried to angle his sweet spots. I smiled as I sent the sword right under between his legs. Marc gasped mockingly and took my sword in his hand. I quickly kicked him hard in the thigh, making him stumble back. He let go of my sword and grabbed it before he could regain it. "What? You gonna give up?" I jeered. Marc replied by clanking my sword with his. By the time the sun was high, no one had actually won yet and we were sweating by the buckets.

"Good match Crimson," Marc said, meeting his eyes with mine. We shook hands and I went to Brian.

"Brian, challenge?" I asked but he shook his head. He tilted his hands toward the sun. "Oh... See you tomorrow then." Only then I noticed Marc, Brian, and I were there. Brian climbed up the side which left Marc and I alone. I looked towards him, he was playing with his sword. He looked up and looked back down. I saw under beads of sweat a peachy color. I couldn't believe it, is he blushing? I walked over to him and smiled.

"Nice game today," he said, not looking up. "Hey Crimson... are... you..."

"Yes?" I interrupted, eating up every word.

"Are you meeting... anyone... after the Reaping... tomorrow?" he spoke in parts, nervous.

Straining to control my excitement, I answered, almost screaming, "Yes, sure. I mean, I'm not meeting anyone tomorrow. I'd love to go."

Marc looked up, his pale green eyes once again melting into my bright green ones. "Good, how 'bout behind the Harvest Den."

"Sure, anything's fine with me," I said, smiling crazily.

"Meet you there than," he said. He turned to leave then he turned back. He slowly leaned forward, kissing my cheek. He blushed and turned away with a single 'bye'. I was about to faint and almost screamed at the same time. I'm going out with Marc! I'm going out with Marc. The fifteen year old boy, who I've had a crush on every since he showed me how to hold a sword. I kept chanting inside my head about my date. I can't wait to tell Jen, how surprised she will be!

I walked into the small, peeling blue paint covered walls, room. I set down my small amount of Tesserae to only last me a week. "Hello!" I called, then heard Sam's voice come up in the living room.

"Hello Crimson, everything good?" he asked.

"Yes, especially because someone asked me out!" I squealed. I told the story to Sam, all except the kiss, I thought he would be over protective about that.

"Good for you Crimson, now let me set down some guidelines," I rolled my eyes as he starting The Rules. "No making out, no going to his house, and absolutely no spending the night at his house."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm only fourteen," I joked. I headed towards my bed, which was in our living room. Our house only had two rooms, one living room/bed room and kitchen/bedroom. Sam sleeps in the kitchen. Sam actually isn't my father, he's my twenty-one year old brother. Our father died because a whipping he had that had not the slightest relation to him. Our mother was so dampened by the thought, everyday seemed gloomy and wicked. She stopped smiling and soon enough, she died. I miss her every time I go to the grape vines. It was her favorite place. Often she'd take a pen and paper to draw, which she was very good at. Sam and I soon started living on our own. Sam was never picked in the Hunger Games, and loves children. It's too bad he doesn't have a wife. Repeated times I've tried to hook him up, though ever time he always would say I'm fine. Though I know he's lying. I set my puny brown school bag at the foot of my bed and took off my black slippers. "So, what's for dinner? Your stale bread or my Tesserae?" Sam looked up from the couch which he was playing with and simply laughed.

"You choose," he replied. I walked into our kitchen and got the stale bread. Better not let the bugs get it first.

"Here," I said, passing a small piece to him then tearing off one for me. I chewed it slowly, knowing that it could easily rot. I walked back into the kitchen, tried to wrap the bread. Walking into the living room I tried to hide a yawn, but failed.

"Time to go to bed, kiddo," Sam said, getting up and ushering me towards my bed. I was too tired to refuse

"Goodnight Sam," I yawned.

"Goodnight Crimson," he replied. I turned over in my bed and closed my eyes. I smiled, remembering tomorrow.

Falling in a deep sleep, I still remembered Hunger Games. Will I or won't I get chosen?

**How did you like it? Ways to make it better? Constructive criticism works too. But don't put to much criticism! **

**Just push that cute little button down there that is really wanting your cute little curser! R&R!**

**-The Last Sketch**


	2. Reapings

**Hello again, I just decided to do the second chapter of 23****rd**** Hunger Games. And, today is the reapings for those who just love them...**

"Wake up Crimson!" Sam bellowed. He knew I was awake, getting out of bed was the problem. "Crimson, peacekeepers will come in."

"I don't care, I don't want to be picked!" I screamed back. I always hated the Hunger Games, I always hated the idea. I always hated the fact that there's only one person who can win it. I remember being only four and seeing one twelve year old being burned to death. When I was seven, I saw a fifteen year old being stabbed over and over. Everyday I was scared that Sam will be next.

A small sigh came out of Sam's mouth. He always did that after many minutes of arguing. It always seemed to the trick to get me out. I don't know why, though.

I sat up, my red hair messy. I went to my drawer and shoes, at the end of the bed. I took a small, silk green dress that belonged to my mother. I shooed my brother out, and put it on. Slipping on my black slippers, I smiled in the shattered piece of mirror I found in the woods one day. I brushed my hair, once I finished, it looked much nicer, not clean, just nice.

"Let's go," I said, my voice low and uninviting.

"Just think of that date with Marc," Sam said. The date! With Marc! I completely forgot! How could I forgot? I laughed at myself. Sam looked at me weirdly, which made me laugh even more.

"People of District Eleven! We are here because of the 23rd Hunger Games!" Our attendant looked up, expecting a cheer, from anyone. The crowd was silent, as usual. "As a tradition, we will recognize our wining tributes from the past!" Only one person came up, every other district add two or more in the Careers' case.

"Hello! I'm honored at being your guide! I can't wait! Hurry up on the tributes Mr. Salamander!" her voice was squeaky and high, like it always had been. The words tumbled out of her mouth, probably because of all the coffee she drank. Denise was her name, but everyone called her 'Squeaky-in-D'. I just called her Denise, which everyone thought was weird. I don't know what was in their minds! Denise had a long skirt with bright blue designs matched with a bright blue, sleeveless shirt. She stepped down quickly, her deep brown hair flowing behind her.

"Thank you Ms. Denise," Mr. Salamander said. His very short hair beginning to bald made him look sixty, but really he was forty. His suspenders almost slipped off because of his short frame as he walked toward the bowls. "Will do ladies first this year," he grumbled. Reaching in the bowl, he picked up one. I thought I saw a O as the first letter. "Crimson Treke." My heart almost stopped, my blood quit flowing.

"I voluntee-"

"No, I will go," cutting off Jen, I knew she was my best friend and would do anything for me, but I would do anything for her. I could feel the tears starting to pour, I couldn't hold it. I teared noiselessly as I walked up the stage. I glanced down at the boys, fifteen year old group. Marc was the first in line, his expression was horror, grief, and pain. Immune to what I was doing, I ran down towards him. I felt my lips touch his and I merely melted in his kiss. I broke apart, whispering, "I will miss you."

Gasps from the crowd rose up, especially from Sam. I walked up the stage and dared to meet my eyes with Mr. Salamander. I smiled a fourth smile then looked at the crowd. I waved, then stopped. I'm going to my death, not going away to an amusement park and coming back.

"Our male tribute will be..." I willed it not to be Marc. "Jordyn Fin-d."

"It's Find, as in look for, sir," I say a tall, lanky boy come from the eighteens' section. I was positive I've seen him at the store when buying cloth or something. Now I get it, he was the cloth maker's only son. I heard someone blowing their noise loudly and looked around. I saw the plump women who gave me the cloth. I couldn't believe the pain she was going through.

"Hello Crimson," Jordyn whispered in my ear. I just stared at him, knowing that I will probably have to kill him.

**This is wee bit smaller- as the Irish would say- from the last chapter, because on Open Office this is about one page, the last one two full -kay, maybe it's a wee lot smaller... Well, how did you like it? Tell me! Tell me! I live on reviews!**

**Just press that button down there and I'll do something for you. I'm kidding oh well, JUST PRESS IT!**

**-The Last Sketch**


	3. Goodbye

**Here's the fourth chapter! Let's have a party! Ya! For those who are wondering I update just whenever I can and whenever I have a great idea and I'm too lazy to write it down. Also, that review that was on MY profile, that was my sister. Who didn't care to sign out so I wouldn't look like a fool. Just thought I'd clear that up.**

**Now on to the story. Don't forget to enjoy it and put it in a review!**

Once strangely tall Capitol man with a neat suit and tie along with a very small cord running down his neck. He lead me along wide corridors in the Justice building. Finally, he turned to a door and unlocked it with his key. Pushing the door aside, he walked in and quickly said, "This is were you'll have your good-byes." The man smiled evilly and walked out.

I looked around the room, awed by it. There was a couch, black with a blue threaded in design, and one small chair that had beautiful patterns etched into it. In front of the couch was a small table with blue design that matched the couch. I sat down in the couch, the windows letting golden light burst into the room. I marveled the beauty, suddenly hearing the door _click_! I quickly turned towards the door.

"Oh, you scared me," I said. I stood up and went over to hug him. I wrapped my arms around him, but he didn't envelope his around me."Sam?"

"I can't believe it," he replied, his voice hoarse and dusty. "I can't believe it."

"Sam, I'm still here, enjoy the time I have with you before it's too late," I almost screamed the words, but I knew I had to calm down, for Sam's sake. "Sam, I love you."

"Love you too, " Sam answered, finally feeling his strong hands almost crush me. "You do god OK? Only kill if you need too." I nodded and looked into his dark green eyes. I smiled and watched as he leave. Slowly sitting on the couch, the door _clicked _ again. This time it was Jen. I smiled at her and ran to her. As I came in for a hug I almost barreled her over.

"Jen?" I said, trying to fight the tears threatening to come.

"Yes?" she asked, standing back so I could see her.

"Take care of Sam, and Marc, and whatever you do, don't watch me in the Hunger Games," I said, I hoped my voice was as clear as I wanted it. But, the way Jen's eyes were narrow, I knew it wasn't. For some reason she always would narrow her eyes when she was confused or sad. I laughed lightly, just staring at her.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You," I smiled. Jen looked at me and started laughing. "I'm gonna' miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too," Jen stuck her hand out so I could shake it. I shook it firm and hard, knowing this will probably be the last time I will see her. "Good luck." After the two words she sulked out the door. The two words she said made me remember something. It triggered my memory to the boy, then the dust bowl, then the SG. Where are th-

"Crimson!" the boys bundled in on me, having compliments and having a group hug. I laughed as they made jokes and such.

"Good luck!"

"Whatever you do, get a sword."

"Trust your instincts."

Different clues arose from the six boys. "I'm going to miss you!" I said, tears desperately tugging at my eyes. I kept smiling at them and desperately asked if I could win the Games. I always replied with, "I'll try my best!" or "I hope so..." I kept eying Marc who was mostly quiet and I could see small tears in his eyes.

"Hey, guys, could you leave Marc and us alone?" I said, probably to soft because the boys eyed me weirdly then gave me funny look. They waved and had one last group hug. All five boys, Michael, Sean, Fred, Thom, Brian, walked out, casting last looks. Thom had a mischievous face on as he was about to say something. Before he could speak even a syllable, Sean interrupted.

"Don't even think about it!" Sean scolded. Thom's eyes popped wide and his face turned as red as my hair. They all walked out and smiled and waved. I turned to Marc and walked up to him.

"Crimson..." Marc whined. The silence was like humidity, sticking around for as long as it likes, never leaving no matter what you do. "I've been wanting to tell you something. I- I like you, ever since you discovered the SG. You were following a creature who had your grape. It scattered towards the meadow..." His voice trailed as he thought about it. His eyes were on the ceiling. "I know it''s really late to ask, but would you like to be my boyfriend?"

"I thought that is what you go on a date for," I giggled. He turned his head down, towards me. He laughed, his ashy brown hair in his face, almost covering his eyes. Hesitantly, I picked up my hand, and moved it across his forehead, scooping the hair out of his eyes. I once again was melting in his pale green abyss. He leaned forward brushing my lips. I smiled as I whispered, "I like you too, ever since you've taught me how to use a sword." As soon as I ended the sentence, Marc had touched his lips on mine, deeper than the one in the Reaping. We kissed for who knows how long until a guard came in. By then, my fingers were locked in his hair, his hands rubbing up and down my hips. We broke apart and the guard smirked.

"Your time is up Mr. Forger," he said. Marc once more planted a soft kiss on my lips, just like how he first asked me out. Mouthing bye, he turned and left. In his place a little boy came in. The boy with the apple!

"Hello, Crimson," the boy said. His voice was very cheerful and kind. His short blonde hair covered his eyes, reminding me of Marc. His clothes were ragged and dirty. He stuck out his hand to shake and I quickly took it. Curious to ask questions. I looked around the corner to see if the smirking guard was still there, he wasn't. "I remember you from yesterday, you were going somewhere in the woods."

"So your the boy with the apple?" I asked.

"Yes, so you remember me!" he yelped, I was very startled by how happy he was.

"Why are you so happy?" I wondered out loud. I quickly coped my mouth but the boy once again grinned.

"Why are you glum?"

"I'm going to the Games, in case you haven't noticed!" I shouted. His twinkling eyes disappeared, replaced with sad, fearful eyes. "I'm sorry, I've had a bad day." I sighed. Well, not all of it...

"It's okay ma'am. Also, my name's Apple." Apple, I thought, a weird name for a boy. "My real name's Casper. Casper Forger, though no one calls me that."

Realization hit me, hard. "Your Marc's friend, no brother. Your Marc's brother."

"Ya, of course I am, also, I'm the guard for SG, so I get beat up a lot," his last words were sorrowful and unjust, I was surprised about his personality. It wasn't bad, just different for a five year old. "Well, enough about me. I came here to give you something. It's no use to me, but I'm sure it will be a use to you." He quickly handed me a small, glass bird. My first thought was a mockingjay, but no. I looked at it carefully. It was a woodpecker. My mother loved these and told me about the times they were in Panem. It much before, when Panem was called something different/ They made pecking noises and did that such. As I held it in my hand, I looked at the boy.

"Thank you, I will treasure it always," smiling, I watched him go. I'm going to miss so many people. I'm going die and that arena and never come back, I'm never going to see those people. Ever. Again.

**Long chapter, like Chapter One! It stormed pretty badly here, so, I almost lost all of this. But I saved it so ya! Anyways, R&R! For me! Please! Tell me about how you liked it, questions, such like that.**

**Well, see ya! I have to go to a bridal shower. :( I wish I could stay here and just write!**

**-The Last Sketch**


	4. Doomed Paradise

**Chapter Four is coming up! I'm really loving making this and thanks to all who are helping me with compliments and constructive criticism! Now on to the Chapter...**

Scenes.

Flashing by.

The train window was squeaky clean, like everything else in this doomed paradise. I was in my room, large and still surprised by the fact. Mr. Salamaner kept coming on to check me, but what made me even more mad is that Jordyn kept coming in without knocking. Sighing, I went to the closet. There were many different dresses and such. I eyes a green skirt that reached my knees along with a green shirt with a crimson heart. It looked homemade, something unusual for this closet. I put it on and looked in the mirror, much bigger than my shard of glass. Twirling, and twirling. I felt like I was in a wonderland.

"You look beautiful!" I heard Jordyn's voice and growled.

"Go away, Jordyn," I snarled, still facing the mirror.

"Who said I was Jordyn?" he asked. What? I'm confused... Then I saw Marc in my mirror. What?

"What are you doing here? Your going to get killed!" I almost shrieked the words, but I knew almost everybody would hear me. "I don't want to loose you."

"Look at me," Marc instructed. I did as he told me to and turned around. As always, my soul was sucked right out of me and I stared at his beautiful eyes. "I couldn't let you be tortured to death by some game! I can't loose you, right after I got you!" He looked away and I finally knew what was going on.

"You can't just break out of here!"

"Yes I can!"

"You'll be caught and killed!"

"You'll be killed too!"

I sighed, there was no way I could deal with him. He'll be killed if he exits, he'll be killed if takes me away. "Marc, you need to go before you get caught," I whispered. I kissed him lightly on the lips and then looked away. A strong arm caught me by the hand. I turned to him once more and whispered again, "You need to go before you get caught."

"I want you to come with me."

"Fine I'll go," I said, though it was all part of my plan...

I led Marc through the train until we got to a window, big as ever. I quickly threw a vase and the window shattered. I smiled at my satisfaction and grabbed Marc's hand lightly. "Ready?" I asked Marc, he nodded. Looking at me, he dove in for a kiss. Slowly rotating while kissing, I advanced to where my back was too the wall. I came for air and quickly said, "I'm sorry, Marc, I don't want you to be killed." He looked at me in confusion, but before he could speak, I pushed him out the train.

Tears trailing down my face rapidly, I watched him quickly get up and stare at the train. Why did I do that, he could of hid somewhere. No! I must be strong, I reminded myself. Soon Marc's body was a speck in the woods. I prayed that he would stay where he was and go home. I prayed that, he wouldn't get beaten by those peacekeepers. More like Peace-enders.

"Dinner!" Denise appeared and smiled at me. She looked oblivious to my tears, smiling and waving. Stupid, idiotic mentor, probably the worst you could get. "Come on dear, don't want food to get cold." Cold? Food? I ate cold food every day, or stale in a bread's case. Following her, interested, she lead me into a huge dining hall with one long wooden table with every food you could imagine. Jordyn already there, acting quiet, though talkative.

"Well, hello Crimson, we thought you would never come!" Mr. Salamander, acting unenthusiastic as usual. His mouth was full of food with much his appearance even more rancid.

"I came, didn't I?" I asked, sitting down. Jordyn eyed me and once again, his electric yellow eyes burned in my skin. "Stop looking at me like that!"

Jordyn chuckled and replied with a small, "No." The guy is unbelievable, smiling like we're in some fairy land with rainbow sweets and rivers of chocolate. "So, Denise, what should we start on?"

It took her a moment to reply, because of the food. "What are your strengths?"

"Longsword," I replied instantly. I lightly blushed and continued to pile my plate with food. I carefully lifted the glass full of dark red liquid, grape juice maybe? Nope, definitely not grape juice, I thought as I sputtered wine. "I'm only fourteen!" Eying the 'grape juice' and carefully setting it down. I took a small bite of some type of meat with cranberry sauce oozing over it. "Yum," I couldn't escape it from my lips.

"You like the food?" Denise asked, I nodded. Try to get on her good side. "I remember when I first came to the games..."

"Which one did you win?"

"The 19th, she winked at me.

"I'm good with my hands, from threading so much cloth. Maybe traps? I've never tried them, but I'm sure I could learn them easily," Jordyn's voice suddenly entered the room. Denise looked over at him and nodded in agreement.

"I've seen you around town!" Denise laughed at her rhyme then shrugged it off. "Anyways, trained separately?"

"Yes," I said quickly. No way was I going to let greedy boy here ruin my training. I scarfed another filling of the stew. Everything felt so good, so nice.

"Oh, look at the time! We'll be eating our desert by the TV!" Denise squealed.

"Why?" Then realization hit me, the Reapings! "Oh, okay." I looked at Denise, she sure was a happy camper. We followed her as she almost skipped into the living room. To the side a huge TV stood. I grabbed a chocolate mousse and sat down next to her. Jordyn sat on the other side and quickly turned on the TV. Smiling Denise flipped it to the Reapings.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

**HAHA! Cliffhanger, I bet you all hate me right now... Well, it's okay. Just wait for the next chapter...  
>Also, I saw The General today and it's amazing. The one staring Buster Keaton! IT'S AMAZING!<br>Now, just press that very cute button that is desperatly calling your name, okay? It would, like, make me, like, so, like, happy, like!**

**Until next time!  
>-The Last Sketch<strong>

**ALSO, IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE A BETA READER FOR ME, TELL ME! I have a really bad habit of not reading my chapter before uploading it!  
><strong>


	5. Who Am I?

**Here (finally) is Chapter 5, you know why I'm late? BECAUSE I LOST MY FREAKIN' COMPOSITION BOOK! *banging noise* Well, I lost it, and now that I found it, I can write! Don't blame me, I haven't really took _full _advantage of technology... Actually, I guess you can blame me, though no flames!**

**Enough about me and on to the story!**

Marc's beautiful pale green eyes that I love, were on the screen staring at me.

"Ooh! I love this show!" Denise exclaimed, her voice giddy. I couldn't help almost smacking her, so my hand tightened around my wrist.

"What about the Reapings?" my voice cracked as I watched her grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. Soon, the TV was blaring and I tried all I could do to not kill Denise. Why was she the only victor. How did she win?

"We're probably early," she replied, her eyes glued to the screen. Denise's voice was like a Capitol's and know, I found it much more believable that if she was actually from the Capitol! "It's almost over, no need to go back to eating." I stared at her in shock. We just ate for crying out loud!

"Fine," I murmured, my voice barely audible. I lowered my eyes and just as I did, I knew that I shouldn't of done it.

"Crimson, watch this!" Jordyn's voice interrupted the man's on the TV. "Aw? What's wrong? Did Crimson's little boyfriend so precious to her and she didn-"

He didn't even finish his taunt as I elbowed him in the gut, hard. What am I doing? I quickly stood up, almost bumping into Mr. Salamander, and walked away, my head low. I tried to organize everything, from now to the Reapings. Was I going crazy? I shook my heads at the different possibilities. I finally sat down, Jordyn rubbing his gut and his face was pinched with pain, Denise staring intently at the screen.

"This man, 14 or 15, has been seen very close to the route where District 11 train has passed. Judging from his clothes, District 12 or District 11. If you spot this man doing anything, confront the Capitol," a man's voice came floating from the TV. It was a strange accent, like nasal and always-smiling. With a hint of torture.

"And now the Districts!" Denise said, smiling at us. I looked into the dining room just five steps from where I was, there was a chocolate mousse. Jordyn saw me staring at it, because soon, he was placing it in my hands.

"And what's it to you?" The voice made me jump. My eyes flirted to the screen and I saw the producer of the noise; a 12-year-old. He must have been picked because soon he was walking up to the stadium. "Hey District 1! I'm Paul Nighting and I don't care how old I am-"

"Very interesting, now the girl tribute... Gold Summer!" the man screeched. "Hello?" I almost covered up my ears because I mean, literally, the guy was screaming. A sobbing girl was his answer, she looked older than me, though younger than 18. Her face was covered the entire time with big, almost fat, hands. Her size was puny, no muscle which was usually case. I'm defiantly going have to leave her alone, you never know.

"I volunt-"

"I VOLUNTEE-"

"I vol-"

There was a huge chorus of "I volunteer" but it all stopped. I didn't even know if tricks are playing on my eyes. The girl gave an ultimately ugly snarl. And I mean ugly. Almost all her teeth were gone, her nose was huge, and her eyes were a dark green resembling a swamp. Gold? No way.

The District Two, was I guess better, they had Ethan Prince. No, Ethan Prance. He had a great build, he reminded me off the Greece Gods which we learned about in school. His dark brown hair reminded of me of the bark on trees. The girl was impossible to decide... Her first name was Smile. She had long, gorgeous brown hair that went all the way to her knees, no kidding. She had small eyes with a long, pointed nose.

District Three, very different. After the tribute escort named the boy, the place was chaos. I mean, boys started fighting. But Peter, the male tribute, just went up there. Peter Binds, somewhere around 17, was very short. And the girl, Lizy McDonald, was taller than him and she looked only about 13! Of course she ran to the stadium. Almost scratching for microphone to say, "I love you District Three!"

District Four, the ocean in the background, was all glum. But Katrina, she was all smiles as she walked up the stairs. Sometimes Four was a Career, sometimes not. I was confused, was this Career moment? The male tribute was glum as the rest, with dirty green shorts, I think Oscar was his name. Oscar Seay, which reminded me deeply of the boy in District 11. Oscar- the District 11 dude- was tall and clumsy, one time he went into the mayor's house because he was so starved, he was killed on spot. The though made me shudder.

District Five was the same as always. Sad-happy, white buildings in the distance. The male and female tribute looked like normal people as they walked up on stage. Jasper Little and Swan Sterchi, were holding hands on the stage, waving. They were about the same age. Swan was called first and Jasper soon followed her, volunteering for a small, 12-year-old.

District Six, of course, morphine addicted victors. The victors, Juliet Crane swayed side to side and her words came out slurry and connected. Jack Asha was the boy, I couldn't believe of fat this kid was. Then, I found out (from Denise's never ending side comments) that he was the mayor's son. The female tribute was like every girl, skinny as a stick with eyes that were bloodshot from the crying. Her name was Susan Feather, which fit her well because of her fragile frame.

Brain Finch of District Seven seemed determined to come home named the victor. I couldn't help agreeing, for he had a scrawny, yet muscular frame. You could see his lower torso packed with muscles because of the white muscle shirt he wore. Jeehna Howard was an older looking girl with very short hair.

District Eight was as usual, dressed in clothes slightly better, though worse than everyone else's. The male tribute, Matt Shade, had unusual long blonde hair and kind, green eyes. Or so it seemed. The female tribute matched except with fierce, icy blue eye. Meliah was her name, Meliah King. I couldn't help think that she would be the most patient, by her large eyes that looked brave and persistent.

District 9 seemed tough, but that was on the outside. The boy tribute, Tay Duncan, litterly started crying _before_ his name was called. I quickly felt sorry for him, but them remembered this is the Hunger Games and there's no place for someone to be sorry. Morgan Hopwood, made her funny name look even more funny. The girl had a goofy smile with sounded like it melted Denise's heart from the long moan she gave. Morgan looked smart, which was an advantage, hopefully she wasn't.

The next round of tributes almost made me vomit. Sam Trey, a younger looking Sam was on the television. First I thought I was my brother Sam, which brought a pang of homesickness. I looked harder and harder then realized it wasn't Sam, for he had the same red hair I did. This boy had blond hair that was just started to come up, like he shaved it last week. Flaring gray eyes went up to the screen, placing on hand over his eyes then like a wave, he rolled it down his body, stopping at his chest. I took this as some greeting, secret greeting. Smiling to myself, I watched him bravely take the stage. The female tribute, was exactly different. She was low on the ground like a dog cowering at his master. Her almost black hair waved in the wind, making her look like a spirit. Autumn Mason was her name, and it fitted her well. I hoped that she would only live, not die. But that, was impossible.

District 11, us. I couldn't stand to watch it but I did. On the screen was rows and rows of kids, about to be killed. Only two were picked.

"People of District Eleven! We are here because of the 23rd Hunger Games!" Mr. Salamander's voice exclaimed, it sounded as if he was surprised. "As a tradition, we will recognize our wining tributes from the past!"

I watched as Denise walked on stage. Glancing at Denise in none-TV world, I saw her look like she was about to scream, "I'm on TV!"

"Hello! I'm honored at being your guide! I can't wait! Hurry up on the tributes Mr. Salamander!" Sneaking a peek once again at Denise, I saw her repeat the words to herself, as if they meant great fame and fortune.  
>"Thank you Ms. Denise," Mr. Salamander said. "Will do ladies first this year." I looked at Denise in the TV and she couldn't keep still. I eyed all the groups of teenagers and finally spotted Marc, his expression was unable to read. I saw worry flicker in his eyes but he shook his head as if to say, "That's impossible."<br>"Crimson Treke!" I looked at the audience, everyone was either relieved, curious, or just sad for another girl will be thrown away.  
>"I voluntee-"<br>"No, I will go," I heard myself say, interrupting Jen. My words made Denise almost cry. It surely sounded braver than I was acting. The pain on Jen's face made me look away, for the camera zoomed up on her. Though, I couldn't help but look back. I remembered this is where I whispered, "I will miss you."  
>I watched myself walk on stage swiftly, then swing my head wildly. The girl on the screen, was me, but she didn't look like me. It was like I was taken over by something. When I ran to Marc, my joints didn't look like joints. They looked like rubber... I watched myself kiss Marc, and gasped. Was that what everyone saw? I blushed and heard Jordyn laugh. Gasps on the TV were loud, as if there was a speaker at everyone's mouth. Walking back on stage, I found myself looking as if about to pee.<br>"Our male tribute will be... Jordyn Fin-d."  
>"It's Find, as in look for, sir," Jordyn's voice arose from the television. I finally spotted him in the crowd, seconds before he left. I saw pain and confusion cross his face before it was overpowered with false bravery. I was relieved for it to finally over.<br>"Samuel Jean!" The District Twelve attendant said, her voice soft. I watched as a very young man, about sixteen climb up on stage. The usual dark hair, gray eyes, olive skin was among the crowd. The boy was no different and climbed on stage thoughtfully. Sunshine, about as old as me, went up to the stage. She was like a sore thumb, her yellow eyes blazing. Was that natural? I couldn't believe it, this girl had no arms at all. I almost cried, but I knew I couldn't do that in front of Jordyn.  
>We watched the last part of the Reapings, and slowly walked off to our bedrooms. Jordyn followed me which got on my nerves and I finally started cursing at him, which I've never done before.<p>

Walking my room, I looked at the mirror. Who am I? Who am I turning into? And most importantly, where is my future headed?

**I will promise I'll update at least once a week, I don't know about two times, but I might some weeks. **

**All this characters are mine! Do you hear me? MINE! LOL, I'm turning into Minasour!**

**R&R! Who do like? I might let them live a little longer... MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

**Wow, long chapter...**


End file.
